


Acrobatics in the Time of Covid-19

by Silvestria



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, and they were quarantined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvestria/pseuds/Silvestria
Summary: "I’m your new neighbour and I got locked out, help!" tumblr tropes prompt got a bit out of hand and produced this ridiculous ficlet.Topically set during the Covid-19 lockdown.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 116





	Acrobatics in the Time of Covid-19

**Author's Note:**

> Trope requested by @riley1canon on tumblr. Hope you enjoy!

Jack had just poured himself out a whiskey and switched on Alibi when the knocking began. He paused, the glass suspended half way to his lips. Perhaps the knocking was on someone else’s door. He resumed scrolling through the shows on offer until he came to 'Miss Scarlet & the Duke'. 

Drat Hugh Collins and his enthusiasm for having a station crime TV club to “bring them all together in adversity”. 

Another sharp rat-a-tat on the door and he could no longer pretend it was for someone else. Sad to leave his whiskey, but not so sorry to put off having to watch this drivel a little longer, he shuffled across the open-plan living area to his front door in his slippers and pulled it open, stepping back in case the person outside was inappropriately close.

When he saw who it was, his eyebrows rose. It was a woman dressed most extraordinarily in what looked like full opera going regalia. She was even wearing a fur coat and a hat with a feather in it. Such a get-up would be unexpected at any time but in the corridor outside Jack’s flat at 5.30pm on a Tuesday, it was extraordinary. Moreover, she was surrounded by a large number of supermarket shopping bags.

“Yes?” queried Jack, suspiciously.

The woman, quite a young woman - or at least about his age - smiled disarmingly. “Hello! I’m your new neighbour and I’m afraid I’ve managed to lock myself out.”

Jack blinked and inched forward to see into the corridor. He had not been aware that anyone on his floor was moving.

She seemed able to read his mind. “Ah - I’m in the penthouse above you!”

Of course she was. 

“I’m Phryne,” she continued. “Phryne Fisher. I would offer you my hand but...”

He smiled slighty. “Jack Robinson.”

“Well, Jack Robinson, are you going to help a damsel in distress out?”

Jack had never seen someone who looked less in distress than Phryne Fisher. “I’m not sure what you want me to do... I don’t have any spare keys.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect you would, but you do have a balcony, don’t you?”

“Yes, but-”

“May I come in?”

“You really shouldn’t.”

She looked at him from below long, luxuriant lashes. “Don’t worry, Jack, I won’t come closer than two metres. And I wash my hands very regularly!” 

Somehow she made it seem like innuendo. Jack felt as if the rug of his own composure had been pulled from under him and before he knew what he was saying he was standing back an appropriate distance and letting Phryne Fisher sweep into his flat with all her shopping. He pressed himself against the wall to keep away from her, watching her eyes dart around the room, taking in the comfortable armchair, the tumbler of whiskey on the table next to it, and the TV screen.

“Miss Scarlet and the Duke?” she queried with an impish smile. “Why, Jack, I wouldn’t have thought that was your sort of thing!”

“It isn’t,” he said forcefully.

“Quarantine getting you down?” she continued cheerfully, passing onto into his kitchen area. “What do you do, Jack? When you’re not watching historical crime dramas?”

“I’m a police inspector.”

That made her stop and assess him in a way that made him feel uncomfortably warm.

“Are you? Inspector Jack Robinson. Well. I like that. So you are out nobly patrolling the streets of Melbourne and enforcing social distancing?”

“Something like that.”

Two metres across the room from him, she tilted her head. “I’d better not come any closer then.”

“That would be wise.”

For a moment, their eyes met and it crossed Jack’s mind that he really should get her out of his apartment. “So, why do you want my balcony, Phryne Fisher?”

“Ah! You see, I noticed earlier that all the balconies are in the same place all the way up and down the building so if I am right...” She had pushed open the French windows onto the balcony and was now leaning back against the railing and staring up. Jack followed her at a suitable distance. “Yes, that should be my balcony directly above us. And if I just...”

Jack exclaimed aloud as Phryne grabbed an outside chair, moved it to against the pillar right by the railing, leapt nimbly onto the chair and then balancing herself against the wall, placed one foot onto the railing.

Breaking all rules of social distancing, Jack jumped forwards, close enough for his fingers to brush against her velvet skirt. “Phryne- what-”

She was now balancing on the metal rail with both feet and clinging to the pillar separating his balcony from the next one along.

“Now, if I just...” She had raised her eyes upwards, her neat little feathered hat still firmly in place on her head, not a hair ruffled. Jack could not help glancing down, his stomach swooping. They were on the eleventh floor.

He wondered if she was mad. Suicidal even. Lockdown did strange thing to people...

“Phryne,” he began more gently and he stretched a hand towards her, the first direct physical contact he’d initiated with anyone in weeks and even then, even at this fraught moment, he resisted going all the way. “Please come down from there. Whatever it is, it’s not so bad. We can work through it.”

“What?” she looked down at him, distracted. “Oh you think-” Something softened in her expression. “It’s very sweet of you, Jack, but I have a lot of life left in me yet. Besides,” and the impish look returned, “I’ve only just met you!”

And then, as his heart leapt into his throat, she bent her knees, stretched her arms up and seemed to launch herself upwards. Miraculously, her hands caught hold of the edge of the balcony above. For a few moments, her legs swung in the air and Jack had time to register that she was doing the whole manoeuvre in high heeled boots before he broke all the rules he was supposed to be enforcing and he grabbed her legs and pushed her forcefully up. 

“Thanks!” she exclaimed breathlessly and then she was pulling herself up onto the narrow ledge running round the outside of her balcony. She was up! She was standing! She was swinging a leg over the rail! And then all he could see was her leaning over her balcony above him. “Will be back down for my shopping in a minute! Thanks for the leg-up, Jack!” 

And with that, she was gone. Jack leaned against the outside wall in a brief stupor until the sound of shattering glass was heard from above. Phryne must have broken into her own flat. Giving himself a shake, Jack walked back into his kitchen and began to wash his hands on autopilot. His front door was still open and presently Phryne, hat and fur coat removed, appeared in his doorway again. She was wearing a corseted 1950s style evening dress and those knee-length black leather boots. It was a dangerous combination.

“Knock knock!”

Jack dried his hands and came towards her cautiously. “That was a rather reckless thing you did back there. You could have died.”

She stopped by her bags at least three metres away from him, the appropriate distance restored, and fixed him with a level stare. “But I didn’t. I’m afraid I am indeed rather reckless, though, Jack.” She bent down - even that action was gracefully executed - and began gathering up her bags. “Luckily for me it turns out there’s a police inspector living in my building,” she added with a provocative grin as she straightened.

“Luckily for you,” repeated Jack, watching her.

“Well, then, I should be going. It was nice to meet you, Inspector Jack Robinson.”

“You too, Phryne Fisher.”

He held her gaze a moment longer than he needed before closing the door behind her, inhaling a lingering scent of her perfume.

She had to be an eccentric, he decided, returning to his armchair and taking a gulp of whiskey, not quite ready to sit back down and subject himself to the fictional exploits of Miss Scarlet. No normal person dressed like that to go to the supermarket, even in quarantine.

On a whim, he turned his back on the TV and took his whiskey back outside onto the balcony. He leaned on the rail and stared out over the Yarra into the beginnings of sunset.

Presently, a feminine voice floated down to him from the balcony above him. “I say - Jack? Are you there?”

Jack raised his tumbler to his lips and could not help smiling.

“Hello, neighbour.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look, we all know that Phryne Fisher is the kind of person who would dress up in increasingly extravagant ways during lockdown.


End file.
